With that they laid their hands on me, -
This friendly jolly four, -
And soon Jones, Bones, Brown, Smith, and self,
Lay struggling on the floor.
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The guest god favored them, of course;
And with paternal care
They put me in my humble bed,
And left me shivering there,
Convicted of a little fact
Which made the spirit sore, -
That on the muscle I 'm no match
For any Harvard four.
C. A. D.